I Don't Want It
by ally127
Summary: “I need to ask you a serious question.” “A serious question?” Duo repeated smoothly. “Yes.” “…I don’t want it.” “What?”


**Disclaimer:** Gundam Wing © Sotsu Agency Co. and Bandai. Yep, that's right... I own _NOTHING!_ ...grr.

Quatre Winner traced the rim of his teacup with his finger. The steam swirled and danced, trapped within the mini-whirlwind his hand created. The blonde watched with amusement. After two more minutes of steam tornados, Quatre raised his cup with two hands and sipped the liquid sparingly.

Quatre pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut. _Too sweet,_ he thought. _I added too much sugar... again._ It was a strange phenomenon; Quatre _never_ use to add sugar to his tea before. But ever since he and his fellow Gundam pilots were ordered to lie low for a while in the safe house, all of Quatre's habits changed.

With the teacup still cradled in his hands, the teen tapped his fingernails against the cup creating his own little beat. _Clink... clink-clink...clinkity-clink...clink..._

"Duo!"

Quatre jerked forward, spilling hot sugary tea on his lap.

"Is that you, Chang?" the braided one yelled back across the house.

There were no napkins. _Nothing_ for Quatre's tea-stained lap. The Arabian sighed and tried to ignore the tiny burning sensation. Still cradling his teacup, he crossed his legs and listened to his friends' conversation in the hallway behind him. He heard footsteps; wait... two pairs of footsteps. No... three?

"I need to talk to you." Wufei lowered the volume of his voice.

"What did I—hi, Heero!"

"Hn." Heero's footsteps grew closer toward the kitchen where the blonde sat.

Quatre took a swig of his half-empty tea, forgetting to brace himself for the sugary impact.

The Japanese teen sat down at the table across from the lad just in time to see him squirm and stick out his tongue. Heero raised a brow.

"Do I..." Duo hesitated. "Owe you money?"

"Yes," Wufei answered bluntly. "But that's not the issue right now."

Quatre heard mixture of groaning and sighing coming from Duo. The Arabian lifted his cup and took yet another toe-curling sip.

"So, what's the issue then? Have I stolen anything from you recently?"

"I don't know," the Chinaman paused "..._Have_ you?"

"...No?"

"What?" It wasn't a question; Wufei was closing in on the braided baka.

"No! I meant 'no' meaning 'yes'... Wait! No! I mean '_no_'!"

"What??" Now it was a question. Wufei was confused, but even more so, was getting suspicious. "Did you steal from me or not?"

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ Wufei's impatient foot echoed through the hallway.

Paper ripped and crumbled in Heero's hands.

Quatre peeked up with curiosity. He raised his teacup higher just under his eyes, gazing past the swaying steam, and focusing on Heero who was scrutinizing the contents of a plain white envelope marked "J".

"Of course I didn't steal from you!"

Duo's nervous chuckle echoed through the hallway, hooking Quatre's attention once again.

"...So, you wanted to talk to me about somethin', Wufei?"

Quatre heard a frustrated sigh. His guess was that it came from Wufei.

"Yes, I do." Suspension gripped the air as Pilot 05 gathered his thoughts. "I need to ask you a serious question."

"A serious question?" Duo repeated smoothly.

"Yes."

"...I don't want it."

"What?"

Quatre swiveled his head around toward the echo-happy hallway. All he could see was Duo's shadow on the wall. The braided shadow's arms hang casually at its side.

Heero's chair skidded across the floor as he stood up. "Hn."

The Arabian glanced out of the corner of his eye. Heero was out of range, but Quatre heard the sound of glass clinking together and liquid cascading into a cup. He prayed silently that the liquid wasn't tea.

"You don't _want_ it? What do you mean you 'don't want it'?"

Quatre twisted his neck around to face the table. He did so just in time...

Heero muffled a harsh cough, nearly dropping the cup in his hand. With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth and cleared his throat as silently as he could.

"Are you okay, Heero?" Quatre asked, concern in his voice.

The spiky-haired youth set his cup down on the countertop with a heavy _thud_. "It's too sweet," he simply stated.

Quatre played innocent. "What's too sweet?"

"Duo, I'm serious! I need to ask you—"

"I don't want it!" the American interrupted.

Wufei growled with annoyance, until another set of footsteps approached.

Quatre took his embarrassed gaze off Heero and saw a familiar shadow in the hallway.

"Hi, Trowa!" Duo greeted merrily, his shadow waving.

"Hello. Duo, can I ask you something?"

"...Is it serious?"

Trowa's shadow shrugged. "No."

"Then ask away, my nameless amigo!!"

"WHAT?!" Wufei fumed.

The unibang shadow carefully took a step back. "...Perhaps I should come back later..." Trowa emerged from the hallway of doom and approached the kitchen counter.

Heero heedlessly retreated from the kitchen and hunched over his letter on the table.

Quatre smiled at the Heavyarms pilot as he followed Heero to the table.

Wufei took a deep breath. "Fine. We'll do this your way..."

Duo's shadow perked up eagerly.

Trowa poured himself a cup of tea and inhaled its alluring herbal scent. His eyes quickly targeted the cup of sugar next to the teapot. Now, it was a well-known fact that Quatre did _not_ add sugar to his tea. However, no one knew that Trowa liked to add heaps of sugar to his tea...

After watching the sugar crystals dissolve in the hot beverage, Trowa picked up his cup and sat down with Heero and Quatre.

"Will a _semi_-serious question satisfy you?" Wufei asked in a dull tone.

"Eh..." Duo teetered his hand in the air. "Not really."

"No?"

"No," Duo confirmed, shaking his head side to side.

Trowa brought the teacup to his lips.

Wufei sighed heavily. "Then can I ask you a plain and simple, non-serious question?"

_Sluuuurrrrp._

"Sure thing, pal!" Duo leaned against the wall; he was now in view of the kitchen.

Trowa's eyes widened to the size of tennis balls and immediately, his body rejected the intensely sweetened brew. Tea erupted from his mouth and splattered everywhere: on himself, on the table, on Quatre, on Heero, and all over Heero's important message from Dr. J.

Quatre blinked. He had a funny feeling something like this would happen sooner or later. Oh well. At least his tea-stained shirt will match his already tea-stained lap.

Heero's eyes refused to blink. He sat there... stunned and still. The vital documents from Dr. J that contained the next crucial mission were ruined... The papers wrinkled and tore at the touch, and the ink smeared across the page. It was impossible to read. Looks like another two weeks at the safe house for the g-boys...

Duo saw the whole thing. His mouth tweaked into a snickering smile. "Hey, Wufei. Trowa did a spit-take," the American announced cheerily. He tugged on the confused pilot's sleeve and pulled him out into view. "See?"

The said circus performer was still trying to recover from his sugar-induced spit-take.

Duo tugged harder on Wufei's sleeve, prompting him to follow. The Chinaman promptly shrugged off Duo's hand and trailed away from his path. He wandered into the so-called living room and planted himself on the lone springy couch.

"You okay, Trowa?" Duo asked with a smile on his face while patting his friend's back.

He coughed and wiped his mouth and chin. "I'm fine." Trowa's tone was a bit too high for his liking, but he continued. "It's too sweet," his voice tightened.

"Too sweet?? What's too sweet?" The American asked skeptically.

Quatre 'casually' hid his face behind his wet sleeve.

"The tea," Trowa croaked. His taste buds tingled like mad.

Duo was intrigued... "Really?" ...Temptation set in. "How sweet _is_ this tea?"

"_Too_ sweet," Trowa quickly informed as he cleared his throat. It was then that he realized that his teacup was still clutched in his hand. He hurriedly set it down hard on the wet table.

Duo pointed to the dreaded teacup. "Are you gonna finish that?"

"No." The pilot shook his head rapidly.

"No? You sure?"

"I don't want it."

"Sweet! Can I have it?"

"NO!" Heero shouted before Trowa could answer. Obviously, the Japanese pilot was still upset about the ruination of Dr. J's letter.

Shot down and rejected, Duo retreated and sat down next to a reluctant Wufei.

Silence passed between them.

"So, how 'bout that seriousquestion?" he smiled.

Wufei slowly turned his head toward the braided teen. "I don't want it." He lifted his chin and commenced 'Operation: Ignore Duo.'

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated! Lemme know what you think!


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